The Home Wall
by moonswirl
Summary: Gleekathon, days 594-595, 601-602, 608-609: Now that she's in Boston, she can't wait to get letters from home and reply to them.
1. Homecoming

_Started my daily ficlets to make the hiatus pass, then decided to keep going with a 2nd cycle, and then a 3rd, 4th, etc through 28th cycle. Now cycle 29!_

**TOP 16, TAKE 2: **_Okay so a couple cycles back, I did my second 'top of Glee at the moment' cycle. Now since I was still in university and such at the time, those were planned a while back, before the second half of the season every started. This made it that by the time that cycle rolled around I realized that some things had changed... Things were added, removed, bumped up... Point is it didn't really reflect where I was anymore. So I decided 'what the heck, I'll do another one ASAP!' And so here we are :) This is my revised Top 16 (of course I HAD to plan before the finale, so there are still a couple things missing like Samcedes, Unholy Trinity, etc, but let's assume they're there ;) They'll get some love in coming cycles ;)) So off we go!  
><strong>Coming in at number one, still undefeated... (as with the last cycle, I'm splitting the number one's chapter fic (5 days, 2 chapters, 5 days, 2 chapters, 5 days, 2 chapters)<strong>_

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><p><strong>"The Home Wall"<br>1. Homecoming  
>Brittany<br>Sequel to "Got Dancing Shoes to Fly Away" **

There were still mornings where she would wake up and expect to open her eyes to find her room… the one back in Lima. But then she would see the walls were not the same color, the air felt different… and then she'd come back down to reality. Finally, a new day would begin for her.

She would get ready, and then she'd go for breakfast. The old Cheerios cleanse meal had been abandoned the minute she saw the kind of food they had in this cafeteria… this was no McKinley food. She did do her best to balance it all out, but… oh, those oatmeal cookies… Huge circles, still soft and warm if you knew to show up early enough… She could easily inhale a half dozen of them if she wasn't careful. She had associated her taking up of going on morning runs to be yet another attempt at balancing. Between those and her dancing, she was keeping herself exactly where she needed to be, and she still had some new… freedoms.

After the breakfast and the run though, that was when her day really started. And so long as she had her classes, the ones where she got to dance, anyway, then she was perfectly fine. But even if she was trying to just concentrate, to think about where she was and how good it could make her feel, when she stopped… when the day slowed from its frenzied pace, then her mind would take that slow trot back down Ohio.

She couldn't not think about them, and it wasn't even anything she would want… that was why she had her keepsakes. Twelve items, each given by a different member of Glee Club plus one from Mr. Schuester… she'd received them at her going away party, and not one day went by that it didn't help her in some way to have them there. There were only three of the items she could have on her at almost all times, because their nature allowed it. There was the chain from which hung a silver key, around her neck, as a present from Tina. And on her wrist there was the yellow pick she had gotten from Puck, which was strung up on Mike's lucky laces, wrapped around her wrist like a bracelet. Then there were those items she would rotate as much as possible, as they could be worn – Mercedes' hat, Artie's gloves, Schuester's vest, Sam's hoodie… There were those she held, like Quinn's porcelain ballerina, Kurt's 'do not disturb' sign, Finn's drumsticks… and then there were those, when she needed comforting, she could snuggle to… Rachel's gold star cushion and, most of all, Santana's knit blanket. She imagined the day when she felt the need to wear, and hold, and rest on all twelve items at once would be the one where she knew she was really in trouble…

So far her life there was… small. Get up, get ready, eat, run, dance, rest, sleep… She had roommates, but she didn't know what to do with them. Back home, she could make friends with anyone, it was easy… She didn't know what it was that kept her from letting herself befriend them, but until she could figure it out then she wasn't going to question it. She already had friends anyway, good friends, better friends, family, by blood or by song. She was reminded of this every so often, when she got hold of her mail.

When she'd left, she'd told them to write her, never thinking that the response would be this strong, but they wrote… so many of them did. After a while, she had started sticking them to the wall by her bed. Sometimes they'd include pictures, too, so she put them up, too. And she called it the Home Wall.

That day when she looked in her mailbox, she felt her heart leap – Lima postage; they always made sure she knew it was from one of them, and this one… She knew it was her grandfather, right away. She ran back up to her room and she sat on her bed. She had the room to herself for the moment, which was better off. She didn't reply by hand. Santana had showed her how to record and send video replies by e-mail. It had occurred to her that they could have just sent e-mails, too, but that they chose to write only made her happier. She opened the envelope and pulled out the letter, smelled it… Smelled like him.

_Dear Bug,_

_First I wanted to thank you for the video you sent after my last letter. Seeing your face again made your old Grampy happy. Now that Matthew next door has shown me how to play them, I expect many more videos from you, just like you can expect many more letters from me._

_I'm also including some pictures from your sisters and your father. They promise to write, too, so until then, they hope these will make you smile._

She had found the pictures before reading the letter, as they'd tumbled into her lap. The first one had Cat and Izzy blowing kisses at her, and the second had the two of them huddled around Lord Tubbington. They'd promised to take care of him in her absence, and seeing how those two were the only ones he listened to, except for her, then who better? Plus, their father was a vet, so if he was ever sick, then he'd be in good hands. Speaking of their father, the third was the best image, showing Joe and the girls in a decidedly 'dramatic' dance pose. It made her laugh instantly.

_I've been going to the center, like you insisted. Can you imagine me doing exercises in the swimming pool? I'm going three times a week now, and I have to admit it does get easier after a while. I've been told I have a new bounce in my step. The ladies in my class do seem to think so. Now I know you never knew your grandmother, but you know how much I've spoken of her, and how much I miss her. I still do, but for the first time in many years I've started to wonder if I could use some company._

_I've also been looking after your mother. She won't say it, and she mostly just acts like her usual snappy self when I go to see her, but I think she's glad to see me nowadays. We never saw completely eye to eye, me and her, you know that, but I think we might just be able to make things work._

She had to pause reading, as she looked to the wall, where she had a picture from her sixth birthday, with her mother on one side and her grandfather on the other. She'd always hoped that they could like each other a little more, and knowing that all it took was for her not to be there for it to happen…

The letter went on with him telling her about this and that, stories of home, and she kept on smiling. And then there was the last part.

_I hope everything is going well for you. Before you left, I made you a promise, and it stands. But I know you won't need it. You're a fighter, whether you can see it or not. You show them what you're made of._

_Love, hugs, and kisses,_

_Your Grampy Joseph_

She breathed out, reaching for tape to fix the letters and pictures to the wall. The promise… that if things ever came to the point where she wanted to go home, all she had to do was call and he'd come get her… She hadn't forgotten it, and some days she wished he hadn't made it… It felt like someone had given her an out, and if she didn't have it then it wouldn't feel like a ready-made weakness. But at the same time she was just thankful that he knew her enough to put the option out there, just in case.

She turned on the computer, and she got the video to start recording, sitting within frame. The first couple of times she hadn't realized she wasn't in that frame and they had gotten some odd angles. She fixed her hair, let out a breath, and addressed the camera with a smile.

"Hey, Grampy," she waved. "Thanks for the letter, and the pictures," she smiled. "See I told you the pool would be good for you," she jumped right into it. "And you should totally ask out that Mrs. Wilson from there, she keeps making eyes at you behind your back, and she's tall like us, so it won't be weird. Thanks for visiting Mom. Just make sure she doesn't start yelling at the neighbors with the bullhorn, she does that sometimes when she's upset. And…" she paused, trying to think of the words. "I'm okay, I swear. All the classes are great, and I kick a… butt, in all of them," she spoke confidently, after a quick edit. Still, her face softened before she went on. "I miss you so much, all of you. No one here gets me the way you guys do. But I'm fine, okay?" she nodded. "I'll send you more videos. Right now I have to go before my roommates show up. I love you," she blew kisses at the camera, waved again, and she stopped recording. She wasn't crying, but she knew if she'd kept going even a few seconds more, that might have changed. She could tell herself and the others that she was fine all she wanted, but it didn't change how she could feel something in her like it wouldn't last.

**TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)**


	2. Home Boy

_A/N: Here's chapter 2! Tomorrow we go back to the countdown with #11, so stay tuned next Tuesday for the next two chapters of this one!_

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><p><strong>"The Home Wall"<br>2. Home Boy**

There were three of them living in that same room, with one set of bunk beds and one single bed. As she had transferred mid-year, the other two had already lived there together for a time. From what she learned soon enough, the third spot had been occupied up until a few weeks ago by another girl, who had left due to some personal issues. This left the top of the bunk beds open – though she had a feeling Tessa, the girl on the bottom bunk, had moved down from that top bunk as soon as Sarah had left. This was just fine by Brittany, who would have chosen the top bunk even if the choice hadn't already been made for her. In the single bed was Aimee, her other roommate.

It hadn't taken long for Brittany to pick up on a thing or two about her roommates. Aimee, originally from Florida, was not a morning person by a long shot. For sure, she wasn't the kindest of people most of the day, but in the morning it was like… Hurricane Aimee… at the very least it gave Brittany some kind of clue as to why she was the one with the single bed; heaven forbid that she should be woken up by someone waking up and climbing off the top bunk. She hadn't taken too kindly to the new arrival in the room in the first days, didn't talk to her at all. But then they'd had their first class together, where Aimee had seen what she could do… From there at the very least she'd started acknowledging her presence. It took a couple of weeks, but now Brittany felt maybe they had a chance of becoming friends… eventually. She still seemed to give her those looks like she didn't understand a word Brittany said at times. But Brittany knew one day she'd get her to crack a smile… only a matter of time.

Tessa, from Indiana, was as different from Aimee as could be. Where it had taken Aimee days to speak word one to the new arrival, it had taken Tessa all of a few seconds to spout a cheerful and wordy welcome. She had this kind of burst of energy that reminded Brittany of Mr. Schuester's friend April, and about the same stature. She also had this tendency to start singing along as soon as she heard music, the only problem was she had… well… Aimee would say fire trucks made more appealing sounds. She would usually be the one to stop Tessa singing, which would get the tiny girl pouting, but even that couldn't last long before she was back smiling and bouncing about. By that knowledge alone, it would have seemed she and Brittany would have gotten along fine. And maybe Tessa had tried, but Brittany hadn't noticed because she was still busy thinking of those she'd left behind. Now it looked like Tessa had just stopped trying. It wasn't like she minded, either way, because there was something else…

Brittany had known from day one, she'd seen it… there was something going on between Aimee and Tessa. They could be as discreet as they thought they were, but Brittany knew better. At least it made some things make sense to her. However long it was between the time Sarah had departed the room and when Brittany had moved in, they had had the room to themselves… Now they'd been invaded by a new element, and things had to change. It was no wonder Aimee could get so crabby with her. And Tessa, well, maybe she thought if they could be friends enough, then they could come to some sort of understanding, compromise…

Except Brittany was still in a place where she needed her room, needed the place where her home comforts rested. And as much as she could want to open up to them, she just… couldn't. She had become a creature of habits in this place, and that was the only sort of leeway she could grant her roommates for the moment, something she'd guessed at the way she'd almost be escorted out of the room when she'd go down to get her mail and they'd toss her their mailbox keys too before shutting the door behind her.

Luckily, on that day, when she opened her box, the first thing she saw sticking out was the Lima stamp… Her face lit up instantly, more so when she saw it was a letter from Mike. She closed her box, retrieved the envelopes from Aimee and Tessa's boxes, and she started on her way back up. When she reached the door, she didn't want to go in, not with a brand new letter from home. So she sat on the ground in the hall, the other envelopes at her side before she opened the one from Mike. This one had pictures, too. One showed Mike surrounded by the kids from the dance class they'd teach together, all of them smiling back at her. There was another one, of Mike and his little brother Joey, doing their best weird faces, which always made her laugh. And there were a few from Glee Club… one of Artie, Tina, and Puck, one of Santana, Quinn, Kurt and Mike… She kept them in hand as she unfolded the letter.

_Greetings from Lima!_

_As promised, you'll find the picture from our class. I was going to include it with the last letter, but Angelica was out sick and the others wanted to wait until she was back. So now that she's back on her feet with us, everyone dressed up for picture day. A few of them asked if they could write you, too, and I told them if they got their letters to me I'd send them to you, so expect that in the next week or two. The director asked if I'd need a new partner to teach the class, but I told them I'd continue on my own. The truth is there just wouldn't be anyone out there who could make that class as fun as you did. The kids still do your warm-up run around the studio._

_I think it's starting to dawn on everyone how different things are without you in Glee Club. It's like sometimes they won't say it, but they're thinking about it. Rachel looks like she's about to lock half the club in dance boot camp, and Santana shuts down about every candidate anyone tries to bring in to take your place. Some quit on their own, so they say, but we're pretty sure she had something to do with it. At least I think they understand why she does it, but at some point we're going to have to find one that sticks or else we won't be able to compete._

Santana hadn't written yet. Well, she had, but only by e-mail. She'd ask how things were, and she'd complain about whichever person they had brought in at the time to fill that twelfth spot in the club. But that was all. Brittany didn't complain, though she wondered why she hadn't received a letter from the one she really wanted one from…

_Some of us are talking about taking a field trip up to Boston in a couple of weeks to see you. It's still in the early stages, trying to convince our parents, getting the money for our tickets and possibly a place to stay. Artie's trying to see if his aunt and uncle might be able to take us in for the night. We'll keep you posted as soon as we know more. It gives us something to focus on instead of dodging Coach Sylvester. We've never seen her like this. She hasn't done anything, but with the way she's sulking around the halls it's like she's preparing something big. Tina calls it the Impending Suepocalypse. _

_Hope you're doing alright over there. Your classes sound amazing, you'll have to tell us more when we come up there! Take care of yourself, Boston girl._

_Mike_

She wasn't even thinking about their promise of a visit. Everything else faded away the moment he mentioned her mother. He didn't know what was making her the way she was, but Brittany did. She would have just told him if it wasn't that she'd told herself she'd broken her silence with enough people after Santana and Quinn.

"What are you doing out here?" She looked up to find the door had opened and Aimee stood there, looking at her. Brittany stood handing the mail and keys from her roommates' boxes.

"Reading. Can I have the room for a bit?" she asked, absently tugging at the key on the chain around her neck. Aimee looked at her, then back into the room.

"Tess, come on, let's go get coffee," she called before looking back to the blonde. Was it so clear on her face, how much she missed home in that moment? Whatever it was, for the first time, Aimee's face showed some kind of compassion, sympathy, a silent 'it's all yours.' Brittany smiled at her, and the girl nodded before trailing off with Tessa. Brittany watched them go before going in to record her message to Mike. She'd tell him thanks for the pictures, that she was anxious to see them… nothing else.

TO BE CONTINUED (TUESDAY)


	3. Home Away From Home

_A/N: Time for the next two chapters!_

_A/N2: If you haven't seen it yet, check out yesterday's 600th story "If that happy dawn should ever shine", preceded by a message/call for assistance (which I hope won't scare you away ;))_

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><p><strong>"The Home Wall"<br>3. Home Away From Home**

*** Following the story "RED HERRING" ***

Tessa and Aimee were off to see a movie that evening. They had actually invited her to come along, but she couldn't go... She told them she wasn't feeling well, and whether or not they believed her, they let her be and went on their way. The moment the door had closed though, Brittany sat back on her bed, pulling the blanket near, laying her head on the star cushion. It had been turning over in her mind all day, so much that she had completely forgotten about the cookies, or her run… It took until her stomach bellowed for mercy for her to realize she hadn't eaten a thing until somewhere around three…

She'd been fine up until then, which was to say she had her down moments, yes, but she could work around them and still go through her days, go to class and take solace in the joy of the dance… No matter what was happening, she could manage, comforted by all the good parts of it.

She didn't know what made it happen, why it happened then, but that morning she just snapped… Her parachute gave out, and now she was falling… Wherever she would land, it couldn't be anywhere near home, and that made the drop so full with panic.

She wasn't… she wasn't equipped, to deal with something like this on her own. She was still herself, still Brittany… with her quirks, misunderstandings, naivety… Had it been any other situation, she would have immediately turned to family, or friends from school… And for a moment she had thought about them…

She had looked around her side of the room, to the box that held all the gifts from the Glee Club, when she wasn't wearing or using them… she looked to the wall… It was Saturday. She didn't have classes; or in her case, she had that night and the day after to try and get back on her feet.

She couldn't call them.

Every last one of those things she had received from them, they all told her the same thing… they were all so proud of her, and they expected her to succeed. She had left them all behind and it hadn't just affected her; it affected all of them in one way or another. What would they think of her if she packed up after a few weeks and returned to Lima? She couldn't call them.

She'd forgotten about the letter from the day before. She hadn't expected this one at all, but when she'd seen it… It made her feel loved, like any of those letters from home, but in a different way. She was still a fairly new person in her life; they had met in a strange way for sure, when, while up in New York for Nationals, Brittany had been wrongly accused of murder and, to draw out the real killer, Brittany – and Puck – had been stashed at the home of none other than mystery writer Richard Castle, who was assisting on the case with the detectives. There Brittany had met and befriended his daughter, Alexis. When New Directions had gone back to Lima, Brittany had gone back with the knowledge that she had a new friend, and that they would stay in touch. And when she'd come to Boston, Alexis had promised that, if she ever needed a familiar setting, as she was closer to New York than Lima, they would be thrilled to drive her up for the weekend.

The letter was propped up on her nightstand, by the lamp. She picked it up, turned it around in her hands. She'd read it, but she hadn't gotten around to responding to it. Her solution was right there, in front of her, if she could just work it all out in her mind. Finally, she sat up, sniffling back that broken feeling, taking a deep breath. She lifted her head.

Moving to the computer, turning it on, she could hear the whispered hopes under her breath – please be there. The window appeared, and there the icon by Alexis' name was green, blissful green… online green. Hesitating a moment, one hand reached to her hair, the other to her face… She wouldn't kid herself into pretending whatever she looked like now could be hidden. So she clicked the name; she called. The 'ringing phone' sound was heard for a few seconds before the redhead's face came on the screen, a smiling face which quickly changed when, instead of finding another smiling face staring back at her, she found one that was bleak, sad. Maybe Brittany's idea that she could confide in Alexis the things she wouldn't dare to tell those she'd left in Lima wasn't as novel as she thought; maybe there had already been signs of what she'd come to say on that night, in messages she'd sent before.

"Is it that bad?" were Alexis' first words. Brittany both shrugged and shook her head.

"The classes are fine," she promised. "The school's fine… My roommates pretend like I don't know they're together…" she listed off, then paused… "Oh, maybe I shouldn't say that… Never mind."

"Right," Alexis assured; it was forgotten. "So what's wrong then?" Brittany looked at her, caring blue eyes staring back… She wished she was there with her, in the room… No matter what, she still felt alone like this. "You miss home, don't you?" Alexis spoke when Brittany didn't. The blonde slowly nodded. "So… you want to go back?" Alexis went on guessing.

"Yes… No… Y… No…" her mind struggled to settle on an answer; she couldn't, except… "Yes…" When there wasn't a 'no' tripping to step in and cancel out that 'yes,' it actually shocked her; she'd never said it… never said it without going back on it. But then… she looked down, seeing Artie's gloves on her hands, Mike's lucky laces and Puck's pick on her wrist, Sam's hoodie… and the thought of their faces made her cry now… of joy that she might see them soon, of sadness that they'd see she'd let them down… "No…" she tried saying, but even she didn't believe herself.

"Hang on, okay? I'll be right back," Alexis told her before disappearing from the screen. Brittany just sat and waited, gathering up her knees. She played with Tina's key, dangling from the chain around her neck. When Alexis finally returned, whatever she'd left for seemed to have gone well. "Hey, we're going to come and get you, alright? We're going to drive up to Boston, pick you up, and you can spend tomorrow with us. If you want to talk about this, we can do that. If you don't want to talk about it and just want to relax, we can do that too. We'll have you back by Monday morning. Okay?" she asked. Brittany could feel her heart's trepidations… yes, absolutely, yes… She nodded. "We'll be there in three hours, tops… a lot less, if my father has anything to say about it. He's not above getting a police escort," she hoped the joke would get at least a smile out of Brittany; it did.

For the moment, she had a purpose, something to distract her. She gathered up some things to bring with her, wrote a note for Aimee and Tessa and left it on Aimee's bed; they should find it there. That still left her some time to kill… She showered, dressed again. She was still hungry, and she went to the diner nearby… Now that they were coming for her, she was starving. She ate two platefuls, then dessert… twice, too… Finally she went back to sit outside the main entrance of the school, waiting for Alexis.

The car arrived, two and a half hours after they'd hung up their online call. Alexis got out, Brittany got up, and they hugged. "Ready to go?" Alexis asked, and Brittany nodded. Alexis got her bag and they climbed into the backseat.

"Hey, Mr. Castle," Brittany greeted their driver.

"Evening, Brittany," he nodded, turning to see her. "You alright there?" he asked, and she nodded. "Fasten your seatbelts, girls, we'll have you back in New York in no time."

Brittany didn't even remember getting there. After the ride, the next thing she recalled was waking up in the guest bedroom at the Castle apartment. It was probably a combination of the long ride, the feelings of the day before, and the relief of being in the second best place she could be in if it couldn't be Lima… but she'd slept through the night, the best sleep she'd had in something like a week.

She had breakfast with Alexis, and Mr. Castle, and his mother… Somewhere along the line she must have decided to go with Alexis' option to 'just not talk about it,' because the subject didn't come up. Either way, they were too busy. Alexis took her around the city, fully intending to clear her mind, reboot her system or something… For a while, Brittany wasn't even thinking about it anymore. But then the subject came of having to drive on back, and with it came the thoughts again, of what she was going to do. This one day away had at least put a pause to her thoughts of going home. She still wasn't sure what she would do, but she had rested enough now that she felt she could try again now, with a clean slate.

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)


	4. Homeroom

_A/N: Second chapter in this wedge, so you know what that means ;) Last two chapter next Tuesday and Wednesday!_

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><p><strong>"The Home Wall"<br>4. Homeroom**

**(A/N2: Part of this chapter is inspired by something  
>we caught at the beginning of the performance for<br>"Don't Stop" (ep 2x19 Rumours) :)) **

Brittany woke up on Monday morning and she didn't know what made her so warm now, if it was the time she'd spent in New York with Alexis and her family, the blanket covering her up, or the sun coming through the window… Maybe it was all of it. She hadn't felt this good in so long, for a second she thought maybe she was still dreaming.

She didn't hear anything, which was to say she couldn't hear Tessa or Aimee. Normally she'd hear them getting ready for the day, or still snoring, or whispering at each other from their respective beds because they thought she was still asleep… But there was nothing. She sat up in her bed, looked around… No, they weren't there, they…

It was ten… Ten in the morning… Monday, ten…

She practically leapt off the top bunk and somehow managed not to break her neck on the way down. She was late for class. It was a good thing she'd showered before she left New York. She hurried up and changed, grabbing whatever food she could find before dashing off, eating and running. Maybe she'd end up regretting it later, she wasn't sure.

She got a good stare down from her teacher, but she was allowed to join the others, and so her day started. With the boost she'd gotten from her trip, and the immediate launch into her classes, she hardly had time to think about sadness, or concerns, or that not forty-eight hours earlier she had said she wanted to go home and she had meant it.

At lunch time, she had met up with Tessa and Aimee in the cafeteria… This was probably the first time the three of them had some kind of proper conversation. They wanted to know what had happened, why she'd left so suddenly. Tessa told her how seeing the note on her bed had made Aimee think the worst for a moment, but then they'd read it. She also told her how that morning they hadn't woken her because they figured she'd need to the rest; she did, and those few hours more had really helped. Brittany told them she needed to get away from school for a while, and they said they understood. If she'd stayed a little longer she might have heard from them how they had once felt the same way, but then she saw someone pass by with envelopes in hand, and she remembered: there would be mail on that day… maybe mail for her, too.

She excused herself from her roommates and headed to the mailboxes. She didn't think twice, put in the little key, twisted it, opened the door… and then she stopped. Lima postage. She stared at the envelope for a while, not even touching it… What would this letter do to her? What if all these good feelings went away and she started feeling sad again? She couldn't keep driving to New York and back every time it happened… Maybe it was Santana; maybe she'd finally written, she…

When she pulled out the envelope, already she could tell it wasn't from her; the handwriting wasn't hers. Actually, it wasn't anyone's that she could recognize, it… She blinked when she read the name on the return label…

After closing the mailbox, she'd gone back to her room, climbed up on her bed before she could open the letter; at least she imagined that was what it was… When she started reading it, she realized she was smiling, actually smiling…

_Dear Brittany,_

_I heard around the Glee room that everyone was writing you letters, so I thought I'd give it a go. I've started to realize how your not being there has changed things, even for me. Not many of your classmates took the care the way you did to say hello to me from time to time, for more than to tell me which song to play, of course. But we can keep that between us, alright?_

_Now I don't know what they'll be telling you in their letters, but you should know they're all very proud of you. They talk about you, before practice, even during practice, and even if a lot of times they mention how much they miss you, what I hear even more often is how they're so happy that this could happen to you and how much you deserved it._

_I don't know if you'll have been able to keep up with what I already taught you. I'm sure there has to have a piano somewhere in that school of yours for you practice, but I'm sure you're very busy with your classes. Don't worry though, it'll still be in there somewhere. Those first few weeks were so difficult on both of us, I don't think you could forget, and neither could I. You were getting better on the end though, and I have to say it's a shame we didn't get to go on, but if it had to be for this then I can deal with it. You just keep on dancing and we'll be good._

_Take care of yourself,_

_Brad_

She took in a breath, let it out… It hadn't been as hard as she'd thought it would be, hearing about home right then… It hurt, still; she hadn't thought it would just magically go away, but at least she wasn't crawling in a ball with all her souvenirs or anything like that.

She had taken up those piano lessons with him at the start of the previous year, after he'd come in to find her with her forehead almost pressed into the keys. He'd joked in saying she might as well learn how to play them, if she was going to watch from so close. She hadn't realized he was just saying like that, and she'd said 'okay.' At first he wasn't sure, and she couldn't say she blamed him. It was like he'd said, the start of it was no fun for either of them. But she'd stuck with it and then…

Oh, was that why he'd brought it up? Like he was trying to remind her about that? Maybe… But she still couldn't get herself out of that dark hole just yet… She missed them all so much that it did physically ache. And then to add that there was the fact that there were some people she really did want to hear from so much, have something to add to her wall, so she could turn and see them there when she was upset… That was what it was, she got it now… her wall… It was to make her think of home, yes, but it was also a source of comfort. Like no matter how bad things got, she could just look to that wall, read the words, look at the images, and she'd remember everything that was good… She stared at that wall all through the rest of the hour and if she hadn't had to leave for class, maybe she would have stared at it all day and night.

TO BE CONTINUED (TUESDAY)


	5. Home, Sweet Home

_A/N: Last two chapters! And a trip into Sylvesters land! ;)_

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><p><strong>"The Home Wall"<br>5. Home, Sweet Home**

Her mother, surprisingly, had written her most of all, but at the same time she had not written at all. What that meant was, while she had sent the most letters as far as sheer volume, to Brittany they said… nothing. It might have been identified as 'shop talk.' Her mother talked about the Cheerios, how they were doing, how they were disappointing her day after day, as they tended to do. She told her about people, most of them for their infractions on her person, but always it was people, other people… She never spoke about herself. So for that, she counted the number of letters from 'Coach Sylvester' to many, but the letters from her mother Sue as none. She tried not to rest on that, but from tidbits she'd heard of her through other letters, and from what her grandfather had written, she knew there was much more to it. So she'd tried something… She stopped sending her videos back, refusing her a response until she had something real to respond to. It might have come off as harsh, especially from her, but she knew somehow her mother would appreciate the gesture.

All of a sudden, over this struggle of the last few days, something else had happened… Brittany had actually started bonding with her roommates, finally. She didn't know what had changed, but Aimee was talking to her now, was trying to include her now, was working her way toward 'open' now. It was still awkward, a work in progress, they might say, but it was something to work with, at least. And she got the sense that, of the two of her roommates, while Tessa had gotten it fairly easy in settling in, Aimee had a harder time of it, the way Brittany did. She wanted to ask her how she'd done it, if it had been hard, or… But she didn't; part of it was just not wanting to intrude, to abuse of a still fragile connection. Really though, if she had to put it into words, it was she was afraid of… that, of Aimee explaining it, and for Brittany to realize that she was just beyond help, that it was just the way she had imagined, that it wouldn't work out no matter what…

She made it through the week. She was so pleased with herself for that, and on Friday morning she had decided that, with her time off before her first class of the day, she would reorganize some things. One of them was the Home Wall. She stood on her knees on her top bunk of the bed, her head almost touching the ceiling. Aimee and Tessa, sitting side by side on the single bed, watching a movie on Tessa's laptop, couldn't help but beg that she be careful, like she would trip and fall any moment, but she didn't.

She had the items that had been on her wall already on one side, and some new things on the other. She started with letters. They formed a neat border where the ceiling and the wall met. A lot of the paper was plain lined paper, some of it from spiral notebooks, judging by the shredded edges, but in some cases the paper was a different color, or had some border… She tried to alternate those, spread them out. The bunk bed was placed in a bit of a nook, making so that she also had a wall-meets-ceiling section at the head of her bed. So the letters continued there, too.

Once the letters were all up, she just had pictures left. Those from the first side, the ones she had first taken off the wall, she put up first. She tried to keep them as much as possible close to their associated letters. Every time she would pick up another one, it would make her smile, and she would stare at it a moment before sticking it to the wall. This went on until the pile on the left was cleared. This left the one on the right...

On Wednesday morning there had been a box in her mail box. It wasn't too big, about the size of a DVD case. She'd opened it from on top of her bed and she hadn't expected the contents to slip out, but they did, they slipped out… Well, they rained down, really. And as she looked down, she saw them hit the carpet… pictures. Maybe it was that she was up above and so they looked smaller, but they reminded her of pictures from a photo booth, in the way that they tended to include one person, sometimes more, up close, mugging for the camera. When she saw this, saw all their faces, smiling faces, squooshed faces, dramatic faces, fish faces… she laughed. She climbed down from her bed, careful not to step on any of them before she started gathering the pictures.

There were so many of them, pictures, of all of them from Glee Club. Every one made her laugh more than the last. They'd all posed a number of faces, from what she saw. She got a fair share from Sam, and Tina, and Quinn, and Artie, and Mike, and Santana, and all of them… There must have been fifty or so of them overall. She would spend the next couple of days flipping through them on and off in her free time. She had no idea who had sent the box, one of them, obviously, but… there was nothing in or outside the box to give her a clue. She kind of liked it that way though; it was a mystery.

It was as she was flipping through the pictures that morning that the idea came to her… there was still the ceiling above her bed… So she started to stick the pictures overhead, so that when she'd be lying in bed, staring up, there they would all be… That was what she did, once she'd put the last pictures; she stared at them… Tina's fish face, Quinn's dramatic upturned eyes, Sam's wide-eyed gasp, Mike's growl…

"Hey, you got mail," Tessa showed up on the ladder, handing out the envelopes. There was one letter from her mother, sitting right on top, and she immediately put the rest down so she could open it. She figured it'd be yet another update on how the Cheerios had deceived her this time, but… even as she was reaching in the envelope she knew something was different…

_This morning I woke up and your cat was lying on my bed, near my feet, and I let it. And it was after that realization that I felt I had to say the words I hadn't allowed myself to say until now, about missing you. Because I do, and I know even if I haven't said it, you know it, but I wanted to say it anyway. And I'm thinking maybe you need to hear it, too, judging from the silent treatment._

_I always took pride in my own strength, or at least what I thought was strength. And in the beginning I thought that, no matter what, with you being gone, that would be all I'd need to make the days go by: my strength. It was only as the days stretched, with silence and loneliness, that I understood. What I call strength, what I've always seen as that, well… It's not invincible, and neither am I._

_There are probably a lot of people out there who would never in a million years imagine me as a mother, or who would even just recommend against it as a practice. And before you came along, maybe I was one of them, too. I've told you this before. I don't think I ever told you about the day I found out you were on your way though. Your father and I, we'd already split up by then, of course, but I was doing fine, carrying on with life. At least that was what I wanted everyone to know, to believe, myself most of all. But he had been… my whole world, for the time we were together. He took up all this space, and now that he was gone, that space was left empty. It should have felt different, and shocking, and unusual, but what I realized was this was just how I felt before him. My life was empty, just as it had been all along. Sure, I had your aunt, and my work, but it still left so much emptiness that couldn't be their place even if I tried to put them in it._

_But that day, after spending so much time wondering if I was going to spend the rest of my life like this, I had to see the doctor, and he would ask me questions, one after the other, and you know how I feel about endless questions… One of those questions though, the moment he asked it, I knew… Even without a test, I already knew... I'd tell you that I wasn't terrified at all about it, but that'd be a lie. Like I said, I didn't see myself as anyone who should ever be handed a child and expected to raise it properly. Add to this that I was on my own, although this would lead me to meeting your grandfather one day…_

_I said I'd tell you about the day I found out you were coming, but the one I should really tell you about is the one where I stopped being scared. I spent so much time being afraid, and questioning my abilities, and just filling my own head with doubt, and… then I saw you, on the screen, in the doctor's office. You were too small for anything in the way of limbs, though I'm sure the moment you had them they fell in love with motion the way they are now, but you had a heart that was beating… I heard it, like it was measuring the space of my own heart, to jump in there and take over. That was when I knew, I was going exactly where I was supposed to be. The rest just didn't matter anymore._

_Others will probably have told you I've been acting a little crazy recently. And maybe I have. What do they expect? I know they don't know the real reason, but it's not their business anyway. I want you to know though that I am alright, and I don't want you to second guess your decision. You belong there, and you should stay._

_I hope to hear from you soon. I miss seeing that face of yours, and I don't know how long it's been since I've seen your smile…. Just promise me at least others are getting to see it, alright?_

_Take care, and if anyone is giving you trouble, you tell them who your mother is._

_Love always, and for you only,_

_Mom_

_PS: In your next video, I'd appreciate it if you recorded something to tell the cat to sleep back in your room or else one morning he'll get my foot on his head by accident_

She had to let out a breath, when she finished reading… Like her heart had felt so warm that it was steaming, and it manifested in the form of breath… Her fingers reached to the paper, tracing where she had written the word 'Mom.' Even written, by her, it still felt the way it always felt… Forbidden and daring. If she ever got to call her that, then they were on their own, together, so that was what it felt like, holding that letter; she was with her mother.

She stared up at the ceiling now, to the smiles and the fish faces… She had been at her very lowest, wanting to go home, and though she felt warm and loved now, even if she had their faces to glance at, her loneliness would only attack her and remind her nastily that they weren't actually there, that they were hundreds of miles away, and she couldn't see them all the time, that she hadn't seen them in weeks… She felt so close to a decision, and she feared what it would be… Either way, someone would be left disappointed.

She had gone and recorded her message to her mother. She wanted to record it now, while the joy of reading her letter still showed on her face. Her grandfather may have sworn to drive her home, no questions asked, if she ever needed it, but if she showed up on camera with the face she'd been walking around with lately, she could bet her mother would find the fastest way to get from Lima to Boston and she'd come and get her.

Finally she'd climbed back on her bed to pick the best space for her new letter. As she was sticking it though, once again on her knees on the top bunk, her foot knocked off the rest of her mail, which she'd forgotten until then. She'd hopped off to pick it up and, when she did, she felt her heart restart, like a locomotive slowly picking up speed… She had another letter, and this one came from Santana Lopez.

TO BE CONCLUDED (TOMORROW)


	6. Home In Your Heart

_A/N: Final chapter! :) Sorry it's late, I got carried away reading yesterday and... yeah O:-)  
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><p><strong>"The Home Wall"<br>6. Home In Your Heart**

In an instant it felt like too much. First she had the letter from her mother, the first real one as far as she was concerned, which had left her so filled with joy, if ever harnessed, to power a small town. And now it was another first, one she had wanted so much that it ached… Whatever had made that Santana had only sent vague e-mails so far, she didn't question it. She knew that wouldn't have gotten her anywhere. Still she had to wonder both what was taking so long about it, what was keeping her, and what it would take to produce whatever letter she'd finally decide to send. Wanting to experience this with some sort of privacy, she looked around the room. Tessa was back snuggled up against Aimee's shoulder, as they resumed their movie… They probably couldn't be moved and, really, Brittany wouldn't have dreamed of it. Still they could see the way she clutched the envelope, almost protectively.

"What's that?" Tessa asked.

"Nothing," Brittany quickly responded, almost at the same time as a solution presented itself. "I have to go… somewhere… Back in a bit," she told them before ducking out of the room, envelope still firmly in hand. At first she wasn't sure exactly where she should go, but those things had a way of revealing themselves.

Of all places, she ended up in the library. She went through the stacks, found an isolated spot, and she sat down on the ground, gathering up her knees and staring at the envelope, Santana's unmistakeable writing on the front… She didn't know what kind of expectations she'd built up for herself, waiting on this, but her hands were almost shaking as she tore the fold open, grasped the contents. She unfolded the letter, staring without reading at first, but then finally her eyes focused so she could read. Looking at the first line, it looked as though the start of it had been written, erased, and rewritten a few times over.

_Okay, so I should have written to you a while ago, feel free to yell at me. It took a while to dawn on me, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. Your not being here, I had no idea that it could feel like this, and now I wish I didn't. But, alright, so here goes…_

_Dear Brittany,_

_That's how you're supposed to start these things. Dear Brittany… I miss you. That goes without saying, but I had to say it once. Sitting in Glee Club right now and the wheels are just spinning in mid-air while Rachel argues with Kurt about some solo or another, so here I am, writing to you. This place is like a morning after without you. It was all good while you were there, like a really good buzz where everything was interesting…. But now you're not there anymore and now it's like waking up, sober, hung over, and wondering how on earth I ended up here._

_Oh, and the new girl, don't even start me about her! Alexandra… The girl makes Rachel Berry look tame. She says we can call her "Allie, Alex, Lexie, Lexa, Al, anything you like." I can think of a name or two for her, but I don't think she'll like them… She auditioned to be in Cheerios last year, remember? Coach Sylvester asked her if she was raised by circus people and then told her to get out of her gym. I mean, sure, she can dance, but she keeps making this face like she's trying to scope out every last horny tomcat in the audience, and then has the audacity of saying she's hotter than me! If she lasts one more week, I will be shocked… because that'll mean I haven't gotten her out of there. They can say I just don't want anyone taking your place, I don't care… Oh, here we go, now she's getting in on the argument. She thinks she's some kind of authority because "my mother runs a dance class." My father's a doctor, and you don't see me offering to do check-ups on… Okay, bad example…_

_Now that I got that out, let me get to the point, because I may not be there with you physically, but I bet I can figure out where your head's at right now. I know that for how much I miss you, how much we all miss you, that it's even worse for you. You've always been that girl, you make friends easy, and you don't let them go. You've never had to let them go, because they were always right there with you, in good old Lima, Ohio. Except now you're hundreds of miles away and you're scared that you won't feel them anymore, or that we won't feel you…_

_You know all those things we gave you, before you left, those things we gave you to remember us by, each one of us chose them, for you. None of us may have been too anxious to see you go, but you can't confuse that with not wanting to see you go there, to your school. We're your friends… me most of all. People have been telling you you're good your whole life, because they're not blind, and they can see you. So you've got the talent, alright. But there's more to it than that, there's so much more to it than that. You can have the fanciest car around, it doesn't matter one second if you don't have the right driver at the wheel. It's your heart, it always was, and I should know because you've let me inside it. All those things that make you who you are, as a person and as a dancer, they're exactly why you need to be there. Don't worry about us. Think of those presents we gave you, not just as memories but as a part of us, that we sent with you. Everyone else, I'm sure they've told you, how much they miss you, like you miss us, but probably none of them said that it was okay, that we were supposed to miss each other…_

_But you'll make it through, I know you will. You're a lot stronger than you probably think you are, and your brain and your heart may be in a complete state of confusion over being away right now, but your feet always find the ground while you're dancing, and they will with this, too. It'll get better once we can start seeing each other again, like on holidays, or over the summer, or on visits like this Friday. Right now it probably seems like so much because you're still in that first stretch, where you haven't seen anyone in a while. But it will get better, I promise you. So don't lose hope, we're all still with you and we'll always be proud to count you as one of us._

_I also promise you won't have to wait so long for another letter, okay?_

_All my love,_

_Santana_

She was crying. It took her a few seconds after she'd finished reading to realize it. And it took a few seconds more to realize that they weren't tears of sadness, not like they had been a few days before, no… Joy, one hundred percent tears of joy, washing out all the agony she had felt, leaving her as much herself as she could ever be. Next to her mother, and her grandfather, her family by blood, it had been leaving her that had been the hardest. But to read those words, to have her be the one to make her understand all the things she'd been struggling so hard to grasp these last couple of weeks, it made her eternally more grateful that she was part of her life. It still wasn't the easiest thing to figure out where they stood with each other, but no matter what, if there was one thing she could be secure in, it was the fact that they loved one another and…

She looked back down to the letter, read again… _on visits like this Friday…_ But, today was Friday, then…

She startled, scrambling to get back on her feet as she hurried to – carefully- refold the letter, place it in the envelope. She knew she wasn't supposed to run in the library, but she at least moved with a walk as close to a run as she could achieve while still being able to call it walking. The moment she'd passed the doors though, she was a bullet, precise and swift, on a course that would take her out into the courtyard, over to her building, through the door, up the stairs – forget the elevator, she was faster – down the halls, to her door and…

When she opened the door, she could already hear the hum of voices, so many voices, and as soon as one of them saw her, everyone burst with loudness, calling her name as she beamed and moved to be taken in by all their arms… There they were, eleven of them, her club…

The next few minutes were just a jumble of hugs, and tears, and loud, incomprehensible words as they greeted one another. She barely had time to register that she'd had a moment with one of them that she was already in the next one's arms, and it began all over again. But with every new embrace, the weight of these last few weeks began to lift away, just like Santana had said in her letter, she just had to see them, and… Santana… She found her last, in the group, and it was just as well, because she held on to her the longest.

As the initial shock of their arrival, crowding the room, began to wear off – though her heart was still leaping and leaping – the rest of the group was offered a tour by Tessa and Aimee, who had looked back to Brittany and Santana on the way out, with a look of something like recognition. Brittany had needed the moment, to recover from the emotions, but she wasn't about to let Santana get out of her sights just yet… After all, she had a letter to reply to…

"Come here," Brittany told her, climbing up to the top bunk.

"Is this thing solid?" Santana asked, hesitating.

"It's wood," Brittany peaked down, and it got a smile out of her visitor… So she climbed up with her, as the blonde showed her the letters, the pictures. She put Santana's letter right next to her mother's, in plain sight. Then she looked above their heads, to the photo booth-like pictures. "You did this, didn't you?" she told her what she'd guessed. Santana smiled, nodding. "Thanks."

"Happy to do it," she bowed her head. There was a moment of silence, looking to one another, and Santana looked to the letter she'd just put on the wall. "So…" she started to ask. Brittany smiled.

"I'm staying," she confirmed. Santana gave another quiet nod. Brittany could still see it in her eyes, the way it was even as her being at this school was still just a possibility, an audition… that she was swallowing back her own sorrow for her sake. She wrapped her arms around Santana, again, but not like before. This wasn't 'hello, I've missed you.' This was 'I hurt, too.' This was 'I love you, too.'

THE END


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